Pride and Academia
by Maryjane G
Summary: An experimental treatment of the P&P premise in an academic context, in which Mr. Darcy must determine what is right and just when one of his postgraduate students draws first his notice and then his affection. Still proud and unyielding, he chooses a solution which leaves everyone involved unhappy and him desperate to put it all to rights. Alternates between points of view.


(The following story is the result of a combination of nagging thoughts, plot bunnies dimly inspired from real life and eagerness to get the thing done. I apologise to

those who were misled by the blurb - I have taken means to make it slightly more accurate. My little writing exercise is more of a catharsis effort than a proper creative

effort, but I think every story has a place somewhere. If any reader is inclined to give feedback, I will be both grateful and appreciative. )

* * *

><p>:*:<p>

He picked her first, on the first day and questioned her mercilessly, evaluating her knowledge and then, when she knew she had done marginally well – and, in truth, he knew it as well – he gave her the lowest mark possible. Her incomprehension, her hurt were meant to steel him against her; to show her petty and undeserving of more, but they only twisted the guilt in his stomach. She accepted it and silently she gathered her things and murmured a dead "Thank you. Goodbye." on her way out.

She sought refuge in an out of the way corner where she sat down and sobbed uncontrollably. She looked desperately for evidence that she had been in the wrong class, that she had disorganized her schedule and thus ended up where she did not belong. She searched in vain.

* * *

><p>Next class she knew what to expect. She still understood little of what was going on, but at least she knew where she was supposed to be. He had come and begun to ask questions of each student. While waiting for her turn, she thought of what she would answer. Nothing seemed to be appropriate. When at last, the person beside her was speaking, she saw him look at her intently and with such force that though she had tried to sustain his gaze, finally she had had to avert her eyes. He asked her the same question as everyone, but she stupidly, incomprehensively required clarification. Eventually she answered and his looks were keenly focused on her, only he did not let her finish – she spoke less than anyone – and he moved on to the next student. She feared another low mark.<p>

* * *

><p>He had first seen her even before their class, in a park, during summer. She had encountered a lost little boy and returned him to his grandfather. When the old man thanked her profusely, she genially waved away his worry that she had been bothered by the incident. Instead, she offered to help him watch his grandson while he ran to some shop somewhere. She took the grandfather's seat, which happened to be next to him. He first saw her legs, long and shapely, which she covered with the folds of her silk skirt once she had installed herself properly. He grew more drawn to her the more he attended her conversation and play session with the tiny boy. She had taken no notice of him and was gone all too soon when the old man made his return.<p>

* * *

><p>On the third class, she had borrowed some materials from a friend. He had seen the latter's name on the cover. When he had entered the room, she was reading attentively, so focused she had not noticed his presence. The class passed uneventfully, except for his growing regard for her. Unable to bare it any longer, he asked her to leave class early and return the materials to their owner. Taken aback by such a command, she acquiesced and left immediately.<p>

While making her way towards another building she reflected that he must have something against her and she worried over how she would manage to graduate the class without problems. When she finally made her way to the building, before she could go up, her friend opened a window and told her she was not yet done and that they should meet later. Angry at his officious and unnecessary interference, she started making her way back when, after only a few steps, she bumped into the very man. He seemed surprised to see her and in her agitation she explained with less politeness than she should have that he had been mistaken.

He could not understand how he could have run into her. He had sent her away to be rid of her and of the temptation of her presence. Before he knew what he was about, he offered to see her into the building as he was going there himself. So they turned and walked in silence to their destination. Once there, after meeting with her friend and returning her belongings, she studied the complicated graphs they were working on. She turned towards him to ask him something about what they meant, but he interrupted her abruptly and informed her he had a class to go to. Bewildered and a bit hurt, she could not understand how he could be polite and solicitous in one moment, and rude and disengaging in the next.

He had asked himself what he was doing there, in her presence, when all he had worked towards was avoiding her as much as possible. She talked to her friends, she looked around, she closely studied what they were working on and he could see the curiosity in her eyes and in the arching of her eyebrow and in the bottom lip caught between her teeth. She turned towards him and she had an expression he'd never seen on her face, one of openness and wonder, completely unguarded and genuine. He froze. She wished to know something or other about the graphs, but all he could see were her fine brown eyes, framed by a dark dusting of eyelashes, boring into him. He made his excuses under some pretext and left as fast as he could.

* * *

><p>Later, when she had gathered more courage around him, she had asked him why he had given her such a low mark. And though she seemed apprehensive and nervous, she stood her ground to him and he had no choice but to answer, for he was finding it more and more difficult to refuse her anything; his only consolation was that she rarely had reason or inclination to ask him anything at all, preferring to seek clarifications and general information about the class from her colleagues. But now, she had decided to be brave and assertive and she was demanding to know. She explained that she consistently obtained some the highest grades, that she had not thought she had been quite so unprepared, especially for a first class, and that she would like to know where exactly she had done wrong so she may avoid it in the future. So he did his best to enumerate her mistakes, only she had not made nearly so many as to warrant the very low mark he had given her. Some of the examples actually came from the evaluations of some of her classmates and she realized it almost immediately. "You did know the first definition I asked for and that was 5 points."<p>

"Five points out of twenty?", she asked with surprise and indignation. She was now more convinced than ever, that he disliked her intensely, for in enumerating her many mistakes, he had mentioned many which had not been her own. Whether he was trying to justify himself thinking she was a simpleton who would not notice or he was taunting her with his unfair treatment of her, she knew not. But she found that she could not bear the sight of him. So she kept well away from him and she thought it the best solution for everyone involved.

* * *

><p>Then during the winter, events and their consequences made the campus more safe for the students and faculty than their own homes. Huddled in improvised dormitories, shivering from the inadequate heating system, they did their best in the present circumstances. He, along with some of his colleagues, had taken up the responsibility of seeing to the students' needs. They were making the inspection of the sleeping quarters when he happened upon her, curled underneath too thin blankets, too cold and pale to respond to his urgent voice. He took her to the hospital wing and there did his best to insure she had proper care and treatment. The notion of staying away from her had lost much of its strength during the months of struggles and, now, when he thought he might lose her to disease, he saw that he had long thought her as the most important person in his life.<p>

* * *

><p>She awoke to her hand clasped in a much larger one, her fingers nestled in the warm palm. The shock of finding to whom the hand belonged robbed her of her speech. He was sitting in a chair by the bed side, one hand holding up a rather tattered volume, his other hand languidly resting on the edge of the bed and holding her own. She could not understand why he would be there and in such a position. The involuntary flex of her fingers alerted him and he swiftly lowered the book and looked at her. The expression of relief and wonder as he gazed at her was even more incomprehensible. He gently squeezed her hand. "You are awake."<p>

He had been keeping vigil at her bedside as often as he had been able and whenever he had a spare moment, he would rush to her to assure himself that she was not worse and that she was indeed recovering. The novelty of sometimes spending hours in her company had not yet worn off and he very much doubted that it ever would. Now, to see her open eyes was like a balm to his frayed and overworked psyche and, though relief and happiness washed over him in crashing waves, all he could manage was a rather breathless "You are awake."

* * *

><p>The doctor was summoned immediately and he performed the routine check under the watchful eye of the professor she both feared and despised and she could not justify in anyway why he would be there and in such an overworked state over her health. She was given an optimistic prognosis and assured that in a week or two at most she would be released. As soon as the doctor left to see to his other patients, he approached and took his previous seat. He seemed rather agitated but he managed to keep a polite demeanor. "Is there anything you need? Shall I get you something? Some tea or a book, perhaps?" Confronted with such solicitude, she answered in a weak voice which surprised even herself that she would like both, but that most of all she would like to see her friend. His expression seemed to cloud for a moment but he swiftly rose and promised to return with the asked-for items.<p>

He had not realized how different it would be to see her so close when awake. Reclining in the hospital bed, the many blankets doing little to hide her slight form, she was a pale vision of the girl he had seen that summer. And yet, the line of her collarbone, the hollow right above it and her long delicate neck reminded him abruptly that this was a level of familiarity which they had not experienced before and he worried that she would think him rude for trespassing on her privacy. While unconscious, all his thoughts had been for her recovery. Now she was before him, weak but alert and asking for her friend, and all he could think was that she was in bed and wearing only a white nightshirt. Disgusted with himself, he rose quickly and went to procure what she had asked for.

* * *

><p>She had asked for the help of a kind nurse and, with painstakingly slow movements, she was helped to the bathroom and was given a fresh change of sleepwear after a rather embarrassing sponge bath. With her hair now combed and twisted into a braid, she felt more like herself. While the nurse was helping her put on a robe, he came back, large mug of tea in hand and slim volume under his arm. His reaction at seeing her standing was surprising and inopportune. "What are you doing out of bed?" he asked abruptly, then turning towards the nurse. "Madam, she has just woken up after two days in a nearly comatose state. Have you taken leave of your senses to allow her to get up?", he demanded haughtily. The nurse left him in no confusion as to her opinion of his interfering with the hospital staff and their work and by the time she threatened to bar him from the premises, he had retracted into his polite and reserved demeanor. He apologized perfunctorily and, after the nurse left, helped her back into bed. He handed her the book which she inspected with interest; he had chosen fiction and she could not be sorry for his choice. She had feared he would bring her some of the course load. Lifting her eyes from the volume to him, she saw his face shift from an expression of anticipation to one of polite interest. "Thank you," she said more warmly than she had been used to, "I shall find much pleasure in reading it."<p>

He had returned as soon as he could and when he had finally reached her little section of the salon, he had found her standing, leaning heavily on the arm of middle-aged well-built woman who had her other arm around the patient's waist. She had changed her nightshirt and had had her hair braided and she now wore a robe which was rather too big for her thin frame. He chastised himself for not bringing some broth as well. His impulsive reaction was both embarrassing and alarming; that he would think he had the right to demand justification about anything concerning her and, yet, he could not help himself. When the nurse had left, she sought support and leaned on the frame at the foot of the bed. She was making her way slowly to the other end when both selflessness and selfishness compelled him to act. "Please, allow me," he said and he offered his arm which she reluctantly took. Her weight on his arm felt like nothing he had allowed himself to imagine. Though he had been the one to carry her unconscious form to the hospital, his fear for her life and the urgency of providing her with immediate medical attention had left no space for considering that he was touching her for the very first time. Now, however, she was awake and marginally well, and she had willingly accepted his arm for support. "I had thought to spend some time out of bed," she said nearly breathlessly, "but I find I may have been too hasty." Her voice, though brittle, showed nothing of the guardedness and apprehension of the past and he rejoiced in this new-found rapport between them. He yearned to snake his arm around her waist and carry her himself the short distance, but her slow progress kept them closely together and he could not imagine that she would welcome such an offer. When at last they reached the other end, she sat and caught her breath. Her head bent, her shoulders stooping and her back curled, she looked frail and wasted away to nothing. His heart ached for her but he could offer nothing she did not seem inclined to ask for. "Are you alright?", he asked, "Shall I call the doctor?" She answered no and slowly crawled in bed, pulling the blankets over herself. Shaken by the intimacy of the image, he handed her the book and looked away. He had thought he might have chosen wrong and she would not like his selection. But though she studied it long and hard, when she lifted her face to him, her countenance was so warm and kind that he thought he might rush her into his arms. Her simple words of thanks brought him more pleasure than anything she had ever told him and he was already starting to consider what other works she might enjoy. He next handed her the mug of tea and waited to see if it was to her liking.

He offered the steaming mug and she took it gratefully, eager both for the warmth and the flavour. She inhaled deeply and green tea oils wafted up in curling vapor trails. She took a tiny sip which warmed her from head to toe and she could not help smiling. She looked at him for the first time with genuine gratefulness, les polite but certainly more heartfelt, and thanked him for the delicious tea. His reply was understated and he quickly made his way out of her tiny separated section of the room.

If he had thought himself lost before, he had no name for what he felt now, for though he had often seen her smile with her friends or classmates, she had never even given the slightest impression of such when interacting with him. After giving her the mug he had observed her carefully and he had at once felt gratified and completely forgotten. She inhaled deeply and seemed to relax visibly; then she took a small sip and the smile which blossomed on her lips was like nothing he had ever seen before. She then seemed to recollect herself and she thanked him in such warm and sincere tones, unleashing the full force of her smile on him, that he could barely mumble a "Think nothing of it." before making his way out. He felt like a man drunk and with no possibility of sobering up.

She was left to her book and her tea and she relished the solitude and the silence. She could not in any way comprehend his behaviour, so unlike anything he had exhibited before. She could not yet forget or forgive his unjust marking during their first class, but she could fairly appreciate the solicitude and consideration he had shown in the few hours since she had woken up. She could not make him out and she dreaded the reoccurrence of a change of demeanor. Exhausted by both her weakened state and the day's events, she fell asleep thinking of her friend and how soon she may expect a visit.

* * *

><p>Though he had warred with himself and the appropriateness of visiting a patient who was no longer unconscious and in need of monitoring and with whom he could only claim the most strenuous of connections, his now habitually formed need to see her had won out after nearly a week of painful self-imposed restriction and he found himself making his way towards the medical salon. He found her sleeping and he did not know whether he should be sorry or feel relieved. She had fallen asleep apparently while still reading and gently pulled the latest volume –brought by her friend but chosen by him– from her slack fingers and placed it on the nightstand. He was asking himself what exactly he was doing. There was no longer any discernible danger to her health; she was awake and well on her way to complete recovery. So, why then, was he still coming to see her and when he knew that such behaviour would eventually give rise to questions? He could not justify it to himself any more than he had been able to justify his unfair treatment of her in his class. His desperate attempts to keep her away from him had made him treat her, by turns, either too severely or too disinterestedly. In truth, he had no idea of the true level of her expertise for he never gave her the chance to speak in class and he gave her written work only the most cursory glance. If he were to be completely honest with himself, and he did not see why he should not be, he would admit that he had been entirely biased against her and that no effort on his apart would allow for a neutral evaluation of her course load knowledge. If, indeed, he wished for even the slightest chance at winning her regard, let alone her affection, he must first apologize to her and rectify the matter by asking a colleague to perform the final evaluation. These notions formed and clashed in his mind while he stood by her bedside, unseeing.<p>

She came out of sleep slowly, disturbed by the uncomfortable sensation of having her arm pinned by something. She gradually opened her eyes and when they managed to focus on the proper arm she saw that an I.V. had been attached yet again while she slept by one of the less gentle nurses. As her eyes gained focus and clarity, she noticed a figure standing by the bed. Confused by her whereabouts and her state, she gasped and attempted to move away from it. "Do not be alarmed. I only came to see how you were doing." As he drew closer, kneeling by her side, she saw his careworn expression and wondered what would worry him so. "I hope I did not wake you," he added contritely, "I had only thought to verify that all is well." She did not know what to say in the face of such solicitude and she only replied that he need not worry; her perfusion had been the cause of her interrupted sleep. He seemed to notice it for the first time and he only nodded, his eyes staring unseeing at a spot on her blanket. He then looked at her. "Is it causing you pain? Shall I call the nurse?" He seemed more agitated than she had seen him even during class and, with his usually tall and imposing frame diminished at her bedside, he did not seem quite so indomitable. She answered no and asked if he would be so kind as to provide her with a cup of tea. He sprang to his feet, grabbed the empty mug on the nightstand and was gone before she had a chance to add "please."

He had not realized she had woken and when he caught the sudden jerking movement, he refocused his eyes and saw her, frightened and confused, attempting to pull away from him. Hurrying to console her, he knelt by the bed and brought his own head level to hers. When she explained she had awoken because of the perfusion, his thoughts flew to the night he had brought her in, frantic and barely maintaining his calm façade. When he had seen her being poked with so many needles and instruments, he had lost all appearance of calm and fled the sight. Realising he was looking inward and ignoring her needs, he asked if he could do anything to alleviate her discomfort. In truth, he felt as if tethered on a short frayed leash and any tug in the wrong direction would cause him to become undone. "No, that is not necessary, thank you," she answered, "…Would… Would you be so kind as to… bring me another cup of tea, pl-" When she asked hesitatingly and unsurely for another cup of tea, he got up and left without waiting for her to finish her timid request. He considered his reaction in light of his epiphany and realized that it had stemmed from cowardice. There he was, to expose himself and his weakness, and he had grasped with both hands the opportunity to escape her presence and to postpone the moment. He returned with her tea and offered her the mug with careful measured movements. He waited for the same reaction as before and her small sigh of pleasure made his present circumstance painfully bittersweet. He had taken a seat in the usual spot and looked at her carefully, studying her features and attempting to memorise every faint freckle and every eyelash curl. She seemed nonplussed by his intense staring and she self-consciously brought one hand to her face, afraid she might have something there of which to be embarrassed. "Forgive me," he told her, "I did not mean to make you uncomfortable, only… I have something to tell you and I was considering the best way in which to do so." Her curiosity awakened, she lowered her hand and looked at him intently, waiting for his words. "It cannot have escaped your notice," he said perturbed by her keen look, "that my treatment of you in class has been inconsistent and often unfair." He was afraid of what she might say in response but, though her expression became guarded, she only nodded. "Ever since you questioned me on the criteria of student evaluation, specifically your own, I have known you to be aware, convinced of my unfair treatment of you.

"That you have not complained and exposed my injudicious behaviour to your classmates and my colleagues, speaks more of your integrity and dignity, than I hope, of any fear that I would have taken action against you.

"I have thought long and hard this past week of how I would be able to provide a just and unbiased final evaluation of your knowledge and I have come to the conclusion, that however much I may regret my past behaviour, I am not in any measure able to act the neutral party. Therefore, I recommend that you be evaluated by one of my colleagues, someone whom you do not know and with whom I have had only the most superficial of interactions." Her expression changed from guarded skepticism, to incredulous surprise, to indecipherable reticence. He wished to know more than anything what she thought of his proposal, but she seemed little inclined to offer any reply. So he continued. "I realize that your health problems have caused a setback in your study, but I assure you, you still have time to catch up and be ready in time for the final examination. I can put at your disposal all the necessary material and more besides, if you are interested." Her eyes held his and the confusion and incredulity he saw in them hurt him more than he would have thought possible. "I realize I have given you very little reason to readily accept me at my word," he told her, "but I hope that in the following days you will be able to assure yourself of my reg-" he choked on the treacherous word, "of my honesty."

She looked at him and she could not believe her eyes or her ears, and the more he spoke the more uncomfortable she became, for here was her very recently hated professor who had made her class with him hell, who had ignored her and her efforts half of the semester, but who had also rushed her to the hospital, she had later found out, who had stood watch by her bedside, she had been told, who had first brought her tea and reading material and who had subsequently provided her with more interesting books through her chatty and not at all discreet friend. And now he was offering to embarrass himself to his colleagues, to ask someone else to come and conduct her evaluation so that there would be no doubt in her mind that her grade would be both fair and accurate. And he had remembered how she liked her tea. "I…" she began and stopped for she did not know what she wanted to say first, "I thank you for the proposal. I cannot deny that it would quiet many of my fears regarding your class and the final examination. I do not know what informed your initial and subsequent dislike of me, but I am glad that… that it has not kept you from being just and fair," she finished hesitatingly.

His words lodged in his throat. He had always known, at least intellectually, that she could not possibly have a favourable opinion of him, but that she would think that he disliked her to such an extent, that all he had done had been out of malice and pettiness! And yet, what else could she have thought? That her professor was so enamored with her that he could barely be master of himself in her presence? That he had fought his attraction by marginalizing and tormenting her by turns? How was his behaviour in her eyes anything but proof of the most inconsistent and inconsiderate character she had surely ever seen? Stricken by this obvious revelation which had escaped him until now, he once again assured her that all would be organized and resolved in time for the exams session and that the materials would be made available to her within the next few days.

She saw him leave shrouded in the same polite and distant demeanor as always and she knew that she had offended him even while trying to thank him. She had been right, of course, he had disliked her intensely and, though it no longer seemed to be the case now, she could not see how he could make such a radical change and start liking her. She speculated that a sense of guilt and obligation had forced him to attend her while she had been extremely sick. He did not seem to be a truly malicious man and, most likely, the thought of the student he had tormented dying, had awakened in him some sense of the injustice of his actions. He was doing all he could now to correct his past deeds and it seemed only natural for a man of his character, especially as it was yet unsure what the following semester would bring. Very likely, this was the last opportunity they would have to solve the issue and he had very bravely taken it up. For a man as seemingly proud as him to have to go to a colleague and confess that he is not capable of providing an unbiased evaluation must be humiliating in the extreme. Her mind continued to go in circles and every thought of him engendered another one until all her head was full of him.

* * *

><p>He kept himself away from her and forced himself to see to his duties and refocus all his energies on his responsibilities. But he could not pass through a corridor or linger in a room without being invaded by some image of her in the same spot. He avoided the campus restaurant all together for there the image of her reading alone by the window always forcefully intruded itself even when he was engaged in conversation with his colleagues. Several days had passed in which he had made sure that the promised materials would reach her, that her recovery was coming along very well and that he knew the date of her release. On the day of her leaving the hospital, he realized she would be returning to the same sleeping quarters where she had nearly caught her death and, justifying it with the desire to protect the rest of the student body from someone so recently ill and who was surely still convalescing, he offered his own office as her temporary quarters, until she would be in perfect health and thus no longer a risk to those around her. That the doctor had had no such concerns necessarily escaped him and when he presented the man in question with the idea, the medic only gave a curt "As you wish." and left to see his patients.<p>

* * *

><p>She had been helped to dress for the very last time and was now making her way out of the salon, along with her friend who chatted amiably about her finally leaving the hospital and about the dire urgency of the final exams. Their path meandered through the usual corridors until they diverted and reached the offices section. "What are we doing here?" she asked with consternation. Her friend looked at her for a moment and then seemed to remember. "Oh, did I not tell you? The doctor thinks it is too early and unsafe for you to return to the dormitories so you'll be staying here until you're given a complete bill of health. You lucky bi-"<p>

Her bewilderment was even more overwhelming when she found him in what she immediately realized she must identify as his office, stacking boxes to make room for the things which had apparently been brought from her old sleeping arrangements. She was mortified beyond words. She had not realized she would be taking someone's office, though now that she thought about it, it seemed positively daft not to infer; but that it would be his office was more than she could bear after three days of thinking of him and what he had done. She felt herself colour and she did not know how best to make her escape for she felt she could not possibly remain there. Her friend was still chatting away and it seemed she was saying goodbye. She turned in time to see her rush down the corridor and out of sight. Resigned to her fate, she turned towards him. He had frozen with a box in hand, looking at her with an indecipherable expression. "I had hoped to be finished by the time you arrived," he told her neutrally and she wanted to be swallowed up by the floor for she could not image a more embarrassing and awkward situation.

"I think there may have been some mistake," she said advancing into the room, "I could not possibly take your office." And in so saying she bent down to grab her bag and backpack. He was by her side in a moment, his hands on hers and pulling the bags out of her grasp. Shocked by his gesture she only stared at him open-mouthed.

"There has been no mistake, my office is for your use," he told her, her hands still in his own. "It will be at your disposable until you are well enough to return to your former room."

Pulling her hands from his own and reaching for the bags she told him- "I am well enough now." Pushing them out of her reach, he looked at her with such intensity that she feared something else was happening of which she was not aware. He must have noticed her apprehension for he immediately took a step back and, still keeping her bags by his side, informed her in a clipped and strained tone- "The change has already been made. I have moved all my effects elsewhere and, in any case, you cannot return to your former quarters as your bed has been occupied by another student. You must remain here."

Why he had lingered so much he could not understand or, rather, he could not admit. He had heard her friend's familiar chatter and in the next moment she stood in the doorway. Her expression was anything but happy and he wondered how he could have thought that she would be even mildly interested in seeing him again. He saw the other girl leave and the frightened expression on her face once she was left alone with him told him everything he had not wanted to know. Trying to alleviate her obvious discomfort, he spoke but the awkwardness of the situation only seemed to increase. When he saw her coming closer he allowed himself a sliver of hope to which her words and gesture put a quick end. When he saw her grab her bags, fear twisted in his stomach and in two long strides he was before her, unsure of what to do or how to persuade her. Her pale slender hands held on to the heavy luggage and he clasped them without thinking and pulled her things away. Her shock was self-evident in the perfect "o" formed by her lips and for a second all he could think was that she was so very close and that her hands were still colder than his. He forced himself to think and he replied in such a manner as to leave her in no doubt of his support of the scheme. Only embarrassment and awkwardness were keeping her from taking that which in other circumstances she would be glad to have. When she pulled her hands from his, the spell was broken and when she contradicted him, he found that what he had wanted to see and what was did not at all coincide. Taking a step back to clear his head, he reminded himself that this was for her and so he made sure that she could not possibly refuse.

Incensed at yet another example of his officious interference, she stared at him unwilling to give in and knowing that she had no choice but to accept. His tall form moved about the tiny office space showing her the few things of interest and then he took his leave of her and he was gone. There she remained as he had said. She kept everything scrupulously clean and in exactly the same way as she had found it. She made an effort to spend as little time there as possible but she soon discovered that she was indeed still convalescing and when a wave of exhaustion seized her, she was grateful for her little out-of-the-way corner.

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><p>The exams session had come and gone; by the end he had seen the entire class and evaluated each student minus the one he most wished to see. He had in fact caught glimpses of her in the corridors, her careful, labored walk belying her attempts at seeming more energetic than she actually was. He would sometimes see her resting in a chair or on a bench in an out of the way corner and, for a few moments, deliberated whether he should approach her or not. Their last meeting always swayed him towards the latter. Now, there seemed to be a lethargy pervading the campus, the relief of completed exams and the freedom of the beginning of a new semester combining to make everyone feel as if they were enjoying a short bout of metaphorical hibernation. The weather continued inclement, unforgiving, and morose and the campus pathways and greens were left abandoned for the shelter and relative warmth of the main buildings. The possibility of returning to their homes had been announced and everyone expected spring with nearly baited breath. He was idly leafing through some papers at the desk he shared with another colleague when a timid knock made him look up disinterestedly.<p>

She had been thinking and reconsidering since the beginning of the semester of how she could facilitate the return of his office to him. It seemed to be an abuse of his generosity to continue there when she now felt completely recovered. She had considered going through administrative channels and have him officially informed that the premises had been vacated, but it seemed so terribly cold and unfeeling and, worst of all, ungrateful. She worried at the problem for another week, before she finally admitted to herself that the only proper course of action was to personally let him know that she no longer needed his office. So, with her heart nearly beating out of chest, she went to see him in the cramped room in which he had exiled himself for her benefit. Through the open door she espied him at an overflowing desk, intent on some papers. Seeing him so focused on his work she nearly took it as an excuse to leave and come back at some later date, but she steeled herself against the cowardly impulse and knocked just loud enough to be heard at the tiny distance. His head shot up and for a split second he looked utterly apathetic. In the next moment, however, he stood straight but remained silent, seemingly waiting for her to speak. "I- I came by to tell you that I am all better now – I had my last medical checkup today – and I can now return to you the use of your office." During this final visit she had thanked the doctor for his foreknowledge in recommending she live separately from everyone else. His expressed surprise and later revelation that it had been her professor with whom the idea had originated sent her in such turmoil that she could barely attend what he was saying. What had before been an uncomfortable thought that she must vacate the room as soon as possible had now become a dire necessity. She thus set out to find him and inform him of her new found health and of his now available premises. Being now before him in this cramped space, she saw the comfort he had sacrificed so that she might recover without complications. She was more convinced than ever of his worth and the examination conducted by his colleague had persuaded her once and for all that he truly regretted his previous treatment of her. "I wish to thank you for your kindness and generosity. I do not believe I would have recovered quite so well or so fast if not for your selfless offer," she added feeling herself nearly to tears. "I wondered," she continued bravely while approaching his desk, "if I could shake your hand." And in so saying she offered her right hand and looked earnestly at him.

That she would appear in his doorway once more and by her own volition, he could not have and would not have let himself imagine. Less thin than she had been the last time he'd seen her from such a close distance, with rather pink cheeks and bright eyes, she seemed to have just returned from a brisk walk. He shot out of his chair before he knew what to say or how to look and when his eyes caught her own, he found he was rather speechless. Then she spoke and all his focus was on her and on the words she formed. The elation at hearing her declared completely recovered and the twinge of pain at losing through the return of his office the one connection he still had with her pulled him to and fro and when he finally managed to pay attention once more to her words, he saw her approach, her proffered hand extended to him. Shocked beyond measure, he failed to react and only when he saw the tentative smile die on her lips, did he realize she had misinterpreted his bewilderment as rejection. Seeing her lower her arm, he quickly made his way from around the desk and stood before her much closer than he should have allowed himself. "I would be more than happy to shake your hand, " he told her and clasped her hand in his own while holding her incomprehensive gaze. He smiled at her adorable confusion and, feeling braver than ever before, added "And I hope that we may call each other friends." Her genuine smile suffused his entire being with a glowing sensation of contentment and he found himself smiling in turn. "We may indeed," she answered and gave her first though timid laugh in his presence.

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><p>AN Some observations, because I've eagerly read the few reviews I've received so far and I would like to clarify some issues where possible:

- I do not condone Darcy's behaviour as a professor; it was everything appalling and abusive in terms of authority and pedagogic performance;

- That she forgave him at all is more a reflection of her as a character than of my cheering on his hopefully having his cake and eating too, as it were;

- I wrote the whole thing in one day and published it as soon as I was done proofreading;

- I avoided the romantic happy ending because I don't think they're anywhere near there yet and he still has a lot to atone for;

And lastly, everyone takes what they want from a story. I'm a big supporter of the reception theory as a literary approach and I'm eager to know how others read this little story. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated.


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